


No, I Am Your Father

by sparklight



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Existential Crisis, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Light Angst, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 05:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: This is the story of how to treat crack seriously, taking into account the level of technology the Star Wars galaxy actually has, and removing the heteronormativity inherent in the assumption of how "no, I am your father" may be taken.There are no kidnappings here, technical or otherwise; this is a hostile takeover and Luke is taking no hostages as he gambles with a few things. At least he has the support of an additional viewpoint, someone definitely on his side who can offer some extra insight before he throws himself to the wolves.





	No, I Am Your Father

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, this is crack treated seriously, and should probably have been a couple chapters at least, but as that's not going to happen, consider this a condensed version of the story (especially the latter half).

It was like this; two children born to two mothers, each a slave. One rescued early, the other not.

It was like this; the queen of Naboo's ship emergency landing on Tatooine, the disguised queen and her Jedi bodyguard, newly having his padawan knighted a couple years ago, being helped by a starry-eyed slave with a midichlorian count too high to be quite normal. His mother claiming there was no father.

It was like this; Qui-Gon dead at the battle of Geonosis, Obi-Wan and Anakin both left grieving, one angrier than the other, and Anakin finding support in both a brown-eyed, sweet-faced angel of a political powerhouse and a fellow Jedi, tightly wound and alive in the Force and all he did.

It was like this; an impossible dance with three people, a war, a secret marriage, a secret, double-pronged relationship, and Darth Sidious watching it all.

***  
It was like this; 

Mustafar burned with a sullen light, the Separatist leaders dead by Anakin Skywalker's hand and the Jedi by Vader's and where both Anakin and Vader teetered on the edge of the abyss, Padmé could reach Anakin. Anakin could not reach Vader, and died for it. Vader, in a fury of misplaced guilt and rage, assaulting Obi-Wan, left burning on the banks of a lava river, while Obi-Wan and Padmé rushed to the the medical facility which had been in charge of carefully nurturing the secret result of an equally secret love, and Padmé, throat still raw, something inside her dead and dying while the rest was still alive, brushed the outside of the pod where the baby floated with a tender hand trembling with...

"Obi-Wan!"

He left the Kaminoan medic's side and took her elbow as she sank to the ground, her thighs wet, her legs wet, _floor_ wet.

"But that's--- are you even---"

" _No_. Shouldn't be, for two months yet," she said, and felt terror she'd never known before even as she looked up to the pod emptying of liquid. Three more medics and a medical droid crowded into the room, helping her up on a stretcher and taking her away from the less conventional birth she'd been supposed to be present for.

She woke up to Obi-Wan standing beside her bedside with two wrapped bundles, one tinier - so very tiny! - than the other, and an exhausted smile on his face as he handed over the smaller one to her.

"You have a daughter."

"Hello, Leia." She cried, and then she laughed, pressing a kiss to Leia's soft forehead, and held out her other arm for the boy - Luke, she remembered that was what Anakin and Vader had agreed on, which had informed her choice for when she and Anakin argued what they'd name _their_ child. It seemed only fitting, that they should have matching names, two halves of a whole, representing the fullness of their weird little relationship, that she had hoped would become a _family_ at some point.

Obi-Wan stared at her, and slowly, handed over the older baby.

"And there's Luke." She smiled, kissing his brow too, but then looked up, the whole of her quivering with exhaustion and pain. "We can't stay here any longer. He'll come..."

"I've warned the medical personnel, they're evacuating right now, and I'm going to destroy the room Luke was grown in."

He was going to leave all obvious evidence that they had come here and killed the child. The whole of her rebelled at the idea, heart soft and full with the children in her arms, but she understood the reasoning, the _necessity_. Padmé nodded and took to her feet, leaving the babies on her cot while she dressed and Obi-Wan left for his grim task.

Teetering back towards the cot after she was done, she leaned against it, brushing a shaking hand over the sleeping children, and cried.

He was dead. Dead, by the hand of the one man she'd never thought would have _been able to kill him_. She couldn't understand it, did scarcely even want to _believe it_.

It was what it was.

Obi-Wan convinced her to let him take Luke to Tatooine, to hide the boy somewhere Vader would never go. It seemed wrong, to separate the children, even more so to send Luke to such a dangerous planet, but she let go, and saw neither again.

Padmé Amidala died three months later, in a nascent rebel attack against the new Empire (well, that was the official spiel, anyway). She was interred on Naboo in full state, and Anakin Skywalker, unable to have freely been with her in life, was buried alongside her in death. There was, after all, no Jedi present to protest, and she'd left instructions.

***  
It was like this;

"I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you!" Luke burst out, and the princess stared at him, blankly confused.

"You're _who_?"

Luke, misunderstanding her tone, took a new tack.

"I'm here with Ben Kenobi!"

Leia, her brain catching up with her, realized she could not deal with this _now_ , and latched onto the lifeline given, latched onto the _open door_ and the bright, eager boy in front of her, calling her. She could feel it. She wondered if he did too. Maybe he did, the way he took her hand and they ran like children down the Deat Star's corridors, fleeing laser bolts and not, as they should surely have if they had been younger, had grown up together, exasperated attendants, teachers, and babysitters.

They were sitting on top of the temple, unable to (fearing) sleep while the rest of the rebels left on Yavin IV slept in shifts while those awake packed what could be packed. They should help - they _will_ help, but Leia... she needed to tell him. Now, as soon as possible, though she still didn't have any idea _how_ to tell him. Maybe straightforwardly was best.

"Princess... are you---"

" _Leia_ , Luke," Leia said quickly, not letting him finish that question. Grabbed his hand, squeezing it, and both instantly regretted it and revelled in the strong warmth of his _very solid_ hand. Luke smiled at her awkward and brightly earnest, familiar pain prickling at the edges of his smile and he was alone like she was. She would tell him, if for no other reason than _that_. She wanted to hug him again, ease that pain and have him enfold her in the same way, though she didn't want to admit to the last. She had to be strong. She _would be_. "I was adopted, you know."

He stared at her, bewildered but leaning in, expression earnest.

"When I was five, my parents told me Padmé Amidala gave birth to me, and," Leia paused, swallowed past the pain of saying _my parents_ , knowing they would never tell her anything else ever again. Luke squeezed her hand, then shuffled in, exchanging his hand for his other so he could, after a beat of hesitation, throw his arm around her shoulders and hold her hand both. It was warm and familiar and Leia dearly hoped he would not be disappointed. "And, that Anakin Skywalker was my biological father. I wasn't to ever tell anyone."

Time stopped.

Breathing stopped.

Luke stared at her, wide-eyed, his face doing... something, before he swallowed it away.

"You mean..." His hand was crushing hers, and then he was hugging her, pulling her close and her heart was beating again, _thundering_ against the inside of her chest, matching the beat she could feel trapped in Luke's chest. " _Sister_?"

His voice wavered, cracked, but her wet laugh wasn't much better and he clearly didn't mind the news, this change, at all.

"I never... knew who my mother was," Luke said as he pulled back, his hands still on her shoulders and just staring at her. Leia was, admittedly, doing the same. Seeing something new, now, though she'd known from the first moment when he'd declared his name.

"Well, now you know," she said, turning her head away to rub her eyes, trying to be subtle and failing, but Luke didn't say anything, "she was... amazing. I can tell you more, later."

For now, they really should help with the evacuation.

Or sleep.

One or the other.

***  
It was like this;

"Ben..." Luke croaked, clinging to one of the vanes at the bottom of Cloud City, but even in his shocked state, he remembered what Obi-Wan had said. _I cannot help you_. And so, what slipped out instead was a plea ripped from him, unwillingly. "Father, _please_ \---"

He shouldn't have said that. He could feel the dark threat at the edge of his awareness, heard without having actually heard his voice and he needed to call to someone else, there was no protection to be found there. Or if it was, he certainly didn't want it.

Despite Luke's fear, drawn thin with exhaustion and pain as he was, the darkness didn't lash out. Instead it was blotted out by light, warm and brilliant as it closed around him with a sensation as familiar as it was not.

" _I am so sorry, Luke_ ," his father said, voice as insubstantial as the rest of him, and there was no blue-limned ghost to focus on, only the sensation of who Luke instinctively knew was Anakin Skywalker, " _this isn't easy, especially learning it after you're already dead. I'm sorry I couldn't have told you myself_."

"Fa---" His voice and breath and thoughts all broke, and Luke shook his head, slowly as if he was drunk. No, not _father_. It didn't fit the warm, concerned guilt of the glowing voice and presence around him. " _Dad_. Tell me he's lying, he can't--- he's not, is he? Leia said her mother was Padmé, _please_ tell me---"

" _I can't, Luke_."

Truth, unvarnished and harsh, as much as Darth Vader thundering _no, **I** am your father_ had been. Harsh, but earnest, regretful and soft and Luke slumped against the thin spire of metal. Almost fell off, but caught his grip with his one, shaking hand.

" _It was... unorthodox, and Obi-Wan would've blown a gasket had he found out the truth before he did, but I loved both Padmé and Vader_."

It was damnation, it was reassurance.

"But, Ben said---" Luke's voice was a rasp, heavy and rough against his throat, and the whole of him was shaking, his body cold and distant to the fiery knowledge filling his thoughts. "Ben said, he killed you."

" _Ah... yes. Luke, we can't have this conversation here. Call Leia_."

The earnest, _insistent_ plea jogged Luke into action, pushed the echo of Vader's ringing proclamation down far enough that he could focus. Let him realize he'd _actually_ die if he stayed here, like this, or, worse, would be spotted and picked up by Imperial forces. He reached, past the fiery coldness of Vader lurking at the edge of his mind, a shackle as insubstantial as it was heavy durasteel, and touched the fiery blue of Leia, instead.

She heard him.

She _came_ , just before the TIE fighters did.

Admittedly, after they had gotten away and he was staring at his new hand, Luke had no idea how to feel about having survived. Having had--- had his... His brain rebelled, but he knew it was true. Why hadn't Ben _told him_?

Staring out the huge viewport in the otherwise dark medical room, since the medical droid had left and he'd sent Leia and the droids away with the excuse he just wanted a chance to acclimatise to his hand without navigating around people, too, Luke slumped over, cradling his face in his hands. He hadn't actually intended to stay in here, but now he found he couldn't move. His thoughts thundered around each other, brought back to the beginning every time he felt the supposed-to-be-perfect texture of his artificial hand, or saw it out of the corner of his eyes.

It wasn't real, because Darth Vader had chopped it off. Because his f---

He shuddered again as the door slid open behind him, and Luke almost fell off the cot in his haste to get to his feet and appear collected enough whoever it was could be sent away with a vague reassurance.

"Luke?"

It was Leia. Of course it was Leia. His whole heart quavered at her presence, yearning for it as much as he wanted to shrink away, because what would she think about him _now_? They didn't share parents - no, they did, it was just... it was just _one_ parent, and what would she think about that? The other one, he'd---

"Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Leia's incredulity bled over into activating the lights, and he winced when they flickered on, losing his moment to, perhaps, have half a chance to reassure her he was okay, like he'd been hanging on since they arrived back at the fleet, and send her out again. "Oh _Luke_."

His eyes burned, his throat was tight, and his artificial hand was just a throb away from being nothing but ghostly pain that belonged to a hand that didn't exist anymore. It convulsed as Leia rushed forward, around the cot, and grabbed his other hand, squeezing tight enough she averted the next shot of phantom limb pain.

"I'm sorry, I've been so focused on getting Lando and Chewie ready to leave---"

"It's okay, Leia, you _should have been_. I'm just..." He should reassure her. What happened instead was his throat closed up, convulsing around the lump stuck in it, and Luke shook his head again, slowly and feeling like he was about to tip over. What would she think? But _not_ telling her, like he'd insisted he shouldn't for the last couple days, was becoming more and more of an impossibility. She needed to know. Otherwise she'd continue to think...

But if he told her, what would she then think?

"Leia, he told me he's my father," Luke said, the words out before he could consider it further, before he could think of a _better_ way to impart this bombshell that he was still reeling from. Before he could think better about not saying anything about it at all. Leia's face went slack. her hand went slack too, and she stared at him. He wasn't sure if she went white or blood red or nothing at all.

"Vader's... Anakin Skywalker is not y---"

"No! He is!" Luke was startled by his own vehemence, and then he was laughing, helplessly, nearly hysterically, and that was probably the only reason Leia didn't flee the room, if not in total rejection, then temporary such. Instead, her eyes wide as black holes and her mouth soft with any number of emotions before it firmed and she forced him to sit so Luke could hunch up again, shoulders shaking before he managed to quiet himself, gripping Leia's hand in the same rictus his other hand had surely held around the lightsaber as it went flying--- "He's my father _too_."

Damnation, and revelation in that last little word. It didn't make Luke feel better, but at the same time he was dizzy with relief getting to say it to _someone_. Leia, aside from Artoo and Han, would be the only one he would trust this to.

"He's... _both of them_?" She sounded as pole-axed as he had ever heard Leia be, wouldn't have believed her capable of such utter stunned _bafflement_ if he wasn't hearing it. "But how?!"

Luke looked up, slowly, his face screwed up in confusion.

"Leia... you know it's not that h---"

"No! Not _that_ sort of how!" Briefly, she sounded amused, helplessly so, but then fury descended. "Did he cheat on my mother!? How _dare he_ \---!"

" _I would never cheat on your mother, Leia_."

Luke twitched. Leia looked around, then frowned, then looked around again, uncertainty written in every line of her face.

"Did you hear that?" Luke asked, glancing to his dad in gratitude - he was a little more visible this time, though still barely more than a suggestion of a shape, much less than Obi-Wan's detailed spirit.

"I... I think so, but--- Luke, _what_?" He'd seldom heard Leia beg, either, and he squeezed her hand, focused on that instead of the storm in his chest.

"He's here. Anakin, I mean. Apparently he couldn't, before, but he told me... told me it was true, and he just said---"

"That he didn't cheat on her," Leia finished for him, then frowned as if she couldn't believe she'd just said that.

" _She has the Force too_ ," their father said where he was standing, some distance away by the viewport. Leia looked in that direction this time, but she was off by several meters.

"He says you have the Force too, Leia. If you just focus, I think you should be able to hear him better. There's not much to see, right now, though," Luke said, smiling wryly at the suspicious glare he got. Whereas she otherwise might have insisted she couldn't do what he did, might not have even wanted to try, with the half-suggested voice she was hearing, _feeling_ , she clearly didn't want to be left out out of half of this conversation.

Several minutes passed, and then Leia blinked, dark eyes widening as she stared at the spot Anakin barely blotted out, there but not there.

" _How_?!" she demanded again, and it was clear she didn't mean how she was seeing-hearing-feeling him now, but rather a continuation of her earlier accusation, with how thorny her voice had become again, and Luke swallowed heavily. He didn't know either. The sigh washed through him, warm with sadness and regret, but also love.

" _We made it work, the three of us_ ," their father said, and the little smile could almost be felt, " _not that, uh, Padmé or Vader were particularly interested in **each other** , but it worked..._" Anakin trailed off, and while the slump was more a suggestion of feeling, it was unmistakable.

" _Or I thought it was. I was so focused on keeping them both, I didn't see Palpatine wasn't just separating me and Vader from the Jedi, but Vader from me and Padmé, as well. He..._ " He trailed off again, and Luke's heart was loud in his ears as he glanced to Leia, who met his gaze with a frown that was much less vicious than it'd been seconds ago. She looked more hesitant, now, but Luke couldn't keep his focus on her as much as he'd like to. Instead his mind kept running over his father's last statement. There was so much, in there.

" _He was furious, when I came to my senses and stopped attempting to strangle Padmé, realizing she would only want me, **us** , to stay with her_." Those words were a bare whisper now, weighed down by shame but honest. Leia's face had contorted at the word 'strangle' but now she was just staring at the spot where Anakin was, then glanced to Luke, frowning.

"What happened?"

" _He apparently felt he was always coming in second, despite that we'd **planned you** , Luke, with Leia being such a happy accident I couldn't believe I'd be so lucky---_" The chuckle broke off into a shake of Anakin's head that could almost be seen. " _And so reckless, bringing children into a war, but we were determined to see it ended before you were born, both of you. I suppose it kind of did happen that way_." The last few words were wry, so dryly ironic it was a wonder there wasn't dust ringing the spot Anakin's spirit was taking up.

"If Luke was wanted, and he didn't know Luke existed until Luke destroyed the Death Star, why would he do _this_?" Leia was the one who said the words that Luke hadn't dared to even think as she reached over with her free hand, snagged his other wrist, and held his artificial hand forward in condemnation. The cold sensation of anger and sadness was almost thick enough to choke on, and briefly, their father was clear as day against the backdrop of space outside the viewport, fury collapsing into tired guilt.

" _The Dark Side feeds on all your darkest impulses and amplifies them, feeds on your control, even if you think **you** can control it. He might... have meant to do it. It's equally possible it was driven by a moment of loss to the Dark, feeding on his frustration_," their father said, his obviously personal knowledge turning into something that seemed to be equally guilty longing, at that moment. The look of it made Luke's heart hurt. " _He was... a good man, once. He looked forward to your arrival so much, Luke_."

Luke blinked, feeling the shift against his cheek, his _Force presence_ , like a caress, and when he glanced to Leia, he saw her face change into a probable mirror of his own as she must have been given the same sort of touch as well. He didn't know someone manifesting in the Force could _do that_.

" _And all I wanted was to be able to hold you. Both of you_."

And presumably that had been what Vader _had_ wanted, too. But now? The last three years? Luke looked back on them as he slumped against the cot, a cold spear lodged in his stomach, and didn't know what to think as he tucked his artificial hand into his armpit.

" _I need to go_ ," their father murmured, but Leia's head whipped up, and she glared, eyes shimmering with something like unshed tears.

"How come you haven't showed yourself before? I could have---" She broke off, turned away, swallowing what was almost an animal sound of fury and grief. Then she slumped, tilting her head into the almost-touch Luke could see, their father almost perfectly visible again.

" _This isn't easy, and after I died, I understood... I had to let go. I wouldn't have done this now either, but when Obi-Wan started his explanations by leaving out things, I knew I needed to do **something**_."

He sounded so incredulous and outraged, Luke found a smile, even if it pulled on his lips in a painful way. It felt nice to know he wasn't the only one angry at Ben for not telling the _whole_ truth. Hearing 'your father killed your other father', would've been vastly different, though Luke had no idea what he would've thought about it if he'd heard it back in Ben's hut.

There was another touch, soft and ephemeral, and then they were alone. Luke's gaze dropped to where his hand wasn't quite hidden by his armpit, and just stared at it, until Leia made a noise and grabbed it, coaxing it out from its hiding place and then pulled on _him_.

"You need to eat, Luke."

It was a benediction; he wouldn't be alone in this.

What he was going to do with it, though, he didn't know. Darth Vader had hunted him for three years, had chopped his hand off, had apparently been looking forward to his birth. Luke shuddered, and followed Leia out of the medical room, and then the medbay.

***  
It is like this;

Luke stared out at the swirling blue of hyperspace stretching out infinitely around him outside the cockpit, and knew this was stupid. Ridiculously, _recklessly_ stupid, but three days ago, in a fit of his own uncomprehending accusation, he'd asked his dad what he'd seen in his father. What had he been, that this was what Vader had become in the Dark?

Anakin, now as clear as Ben had been on Hoth, on Dagobah, had sat down like the universe weighed on him, guilt and longing both writ large on ephemeral features, and sighed.

" _He was..._ " His dad had hesitated, his shape growing softer, nearly indistinct with his distraction, before he'd pulled back together, looking at Luke. How do you summarize a person against what they now were? " _Contained. Not like the rest of the Jedi were, which was probably what I picked up on - someone similar to myself, unable to excise what wasn't acceptable - everything he did seethed with everything he didn't let out, and he called **me** loud_!"

His dad had laughed, a short burst that had, for a moment, sung with old happiness, an insider joke. Then it'd settled into contemplation again, knitting his dad's eyebrows deeply.

" _I wasn't actually that good at hiding the things I wasn't supposed to feel, or not feel **like that** , anyway_," Anakin had said, a wry smile twisting his lips, and Luke had known he'd need to talk to him - later - about how he'd experienced the Jedi. Ben and Yoda had their own thoughts, and this was a chance for a third, untainted by the Dark. " _Padmé grounded me, gave me something I thought I'd lost with my mother, **normalcy** , she was so free with what she felt for me, made it easy to feel like I wasn't wrong for feeling it. Vader... gave me an orbit. Something to bounce off, feel like the Jedi could have a space for me, too. I wanted to have **all** of it_."

Anakin had slumped again then, and had ran a hand through his hair.

" _I suppose that wasn't fair, but I'd had next to nothing, growing up, and being given the two of them... I suppose I missed the signs. You see, Vader clutched as hard as I did to things he considered his, so that hasn't changed_." Anakin had looked at him, apologetic and guilty again, and Luke could read what he wasn't saying. That he'd liked it. It'd given him an easily measurable metric for their relationship, especially when both the one with Vader _and_ Padmé had needed to be kept hidden.

He understood, and he yet _didn't_ , but it was at least glimpses of a man that didn't commit atrocities every day and if he'd been _that_... No wonder Vader had been chasing him for three years, but was a minion in the Dark all he wanted out of it? A figure? He'd offered him _the Empire_. Did you do that with someone you just wanted to have because you considered them 'yours'?

Not that Luke actually wanted the throne, and he would definitely not told Leia about the offer, but it was the one thing that stood out against Vader's call to join him on the Dark side, stood out against having _chopped his hand off_. Why wouldn't the man want the throne for himself? Was it just bait?

... No. Luke could tell that much. It'd been the truth, as much as 'I am your father!' had been the truth too.

Scrubbing his face and mumbling reassurance to Artoo's frustrated and concerned text on the screen, Luke sunk down as much as he could in his seat, still firmly strapped in and wrapped in the layers of his flight suit.

This was crazy.

And dumb.

Yet here he was, three days later, after having asked his dad where their final confrontation had happened. It was, surprisingly, not even that far from their current staging point, moving around constantly as they were.

Because if he was doing this at all, he wanted _some_ sort of... if not advantage, he didn't think it could be considered an advantage, but some way to equalize the field, just a little.

Mustafar seemed like the best way to do that, but the second they broke lightspeed, Luke was startled to feel the strengthening of his awareness of Vader - the _bond_ between him and... his father. Did that mean he was actually _on the planet_? Incredulous, Luke had scanned the seething coal of a planet and found scattered outposts of mostly inactive technology, and then one spot that lit up like Imperial Center on his screen. He didn't land near that brooding basalt spire of a citadel, but he landed... pretty close, despite Artoo's increasingly livid protests.

"Hey--- _Hey_! Artoo, _stop that_! I know what I'm doing!" groaning, Luke wrested control of the X-wing from Artoo for a third time as he took it down to land, silently appending _I hope_ to that.

He started to sweat the second he cracked the cockpit open, was partially soaked by the point he stood on the ground, heat radiating from the black stone under his feet, and waited. Darth Vader had chased him for three years, had chopped his hand off, had offered him the imperial throne, and had, apparently, loved his dad and looked forward to his birth. Swallowing, mouth dry and his tongue feeling huge, Luke straightened up as the lumbering shadow of Vader came into view.

He couldn't let him control this, or he'd lose faster than he otherwise might.

"Did you want me?" Luke asked, arms crossed over his chest and chin raised, Vader still meters away, and he didn't imagine the way the man almost stumbled. Came to a stop and presumably stared at him, silent and still for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"... What?" Was it his imagination, or was the vocoder-modulated bass raspier than usual?

"When you and Anakin decided to have a child. Did you actually _want m_ \---"

" _Yes_ ," Vader practically snarled it, and Luke couldn't tell if he was furious for the implied slight of manipulation inherent in agreeing to a child you didn't want, having to admit it at all or... what. Luke was so caught by that, only Artoo's shriek had him duck away from the grasping hand - too late. "What is that for sort of question, young one?"

Fury. Offended. Maybe, underneath that, a little hurt. The window, as brief as it'd been, slammed close quickly and hard enough Luke got vertigo and a metaphorically burning nose from the equally metaphorical door that'd clipped it as it closed.

"A pertinent one. You _chopped my hand off_!" He'd thought he'd be able to control himself, but weeks of exhausted confusion, hurt, fear and anger bubbled up and over. He definitely didn't imagine the flinch this time, though it was Luke's turn to flinch when the grip on his arm tightened enough it felt like the bones in his arms were grinding together. It let up, if only a little.

"It was... regrettable. A necessary end to the duel. I had not planned to let it go that far."

No, he'd planned to freeze him! Luke didn't say that, though. They both knew that, and the offense of chopping his hand off was definitely a graver one, even if he was getting used to it. It was a good hand, but it wasn't yet _his_. It might be, in the future.

"What did you hope to accomplish, coming here, Luke?" Vader said, apparently having regained some equilibrium, because Luke thought he picked up on some faint... amusement. And reproach. Which was ridiculous, what did the man have to be reproachful over, since Luke was - almost, kind of, apparently - practically handing himself over to Vader?

Exhaling, Luke briefly closed his eyes, swallowed again against the dryness and nausea churning inside, and then looked up. Had to tilt his head _unfairly_ far, and how was that fair at all when Anakin had been tall and Vader was taller still?!

"I'm not going to turn. You're going to have to kill me before I turn, but," Luke said, pausing without meaning to, words heavy on his tongue, "but I want to know _you_. Come with me, father."

Silence.

The opaque lenses of the mask reflected only the livid glow of lava around them and his own face, though maybe, if he tilted his head a little further, he might catch a shape or angle of something behind it. He didn't get the chance to, as Vader whirled around, the heavy cloak slapping against his legs and the grip on his arm tightening.

"That is... naive, my son," Vader said, and something in the rumble wasn't as steady as it might have been, maybe. It was refusal, but not quite of the sort Luke had feared. "My master would not let go so easily. You are a threat to hi---"

"And you want me to turn? For _what_? You said we could end this war, can't we kill him without me turning?"

He'd almost forgotten that part of Vader's little speech, though it was of course inherent in 'rule as father and son'. To do that, there couldn't be someone else on the throne of the Empire.

"You don't know the Dark Side, Luke. There is no way you could win against him as you are _now_. You need more strength."

Luke dug his heels in, and strangely Vader paused, turning around slowly to stare down at him. The impatience burning in every line of his body wasn't hard to see.

"Like _you_? Your strength? All I need is more knowledge, and what if I don't care about you, about ruling _together_ when I've turned? What are you going to do _then_?" Luke wasn't sure if that was an accusation, or the equivalent of a lightsaber thrust into the heart of Vader's apparent sincerity of the offer he'd put forth. Both, maybe. He was getting... a little desperate, maybe.

"... I would still have you at my side," Vader ground out after a heavy moment of silence, and Luke swallowed a groan and the urge to toss his arms up in the air, if he could have against the grip. He felt brittle.

"You can have that _now_ , father! But if you actually want _me_ , stop trying to _change me_!"

It felt shamefully easy, now, to call the man father, even if Luke wasn't sure he could qualify yet. Biologically, of course, yes. The rest..? He'd hunted him for three years, he'd chopped his hand off. He'd offered him the throne of the Empire, but was that for _him_ , or for _Vader_? What Vader thought he deserved because he was connected to him?

This was crazy. He didn't even know what he wanted out of this, maybe Yoda had been right and there was no way to return from the Dark, maybe there was nothing left of Vader from before he took the title of _Darth_ , and all that was left now was the twisted remains of a reflection cast by a shattered mirror. In that case, no pleading in the universe would be enough.

"I..." Vader stared down at him, immovable, grip impossibly tight. It wasn't quite as firm as it'd been before, however. "... Go, Luke."

Blinking, Luke sucked in a startled, burning breath, feeling a little dizzy - from the fumes, or the implication of what Vader was doing.

" _Go_ ," he hissed, letting go of his arm as well. Luke resisted the urge to rub it, and shook his head. Straightened again.

"No, _come with_ me," Luke said, holding his own hand out, "what if the Emperor thought you were dead? Does he have a way to tell?"

"... What?"

Luke could tell Vader was staring, the incredulity more felt than heard in the flat, rumbling bass.

"What if your secret stronghold was unexpectedly destroyed while you were on the planet?" Luke felt something wild rise up in his chest, clutched at it with both hands. Maybe he was crazy, and the last few weeks, being left to all these thoughts even if having Anakin's point of view had helped, had strung him a little too thin. He probably wouldn't have done this if he'd waited a couple months, waited until they'd gotten Han back, but here they were now, as one of the Rebellion's capital ships exited hyperspace and swung in for bombardment of the geotag he'd sent as soon as he'd seen the black castle. "Would that give us a few weeks, at least?"

A hot wind, bringing sparks and ashes, blew across them, tugging on his hair and the loose sleeves of his flight suit where they dangled around his waist, made Vader's cloak swirl. The black dome of the helmet shifted upwards, watching the shining curve of the distant flagship, and the bombardment that was dropped. The ground shuddered underneath them, but they were too far away to be hit by any shockwave or debris.

Luke swore he heard a sigh over their bond, ghostly and soft.

"You are indeed your fathers' son, young one," Vader said, still staring at the ship in the distance, then looked down to him again, "you may have bought a few weeks, at least, with that, yes. You would have me prisoner of the Rebellion?"

His fathers' son. For once, the thought brought no dread, and Luke felt strangely light.

"Uh, maybe _after_ the Emperor's dead, but at that point, they might be willing to negotiate a little. If you don't have another ship, you can have my X-wing so we can meet up somewhere, later."

Luke gestured to the ship, though he wondered if the cockpit would hold Vader, and the man looked between the snubfighter and Luke, his helmet twitching towards the grumbling form of Artoo in his socket, and then looked away.

"I have another form of transportation. What are you proposing?"

Luke exhaled, uncertain this was happening, and shrugged. He felt like he was going to throw up, though not in a bad way, if there was such a thing. Had this actually worked? Would Vader change his mind as soon as he had a little time to think about it? Only one way to find out.

"Tatooine. Help me build my new lightsaber, and... there's someone who would want to talk to you," Luke said, adding the last cautiously. He hadn't intended to even _hint_ at his dad still existing in some form, but the way Anakin had talked about Vader, and his probably unintended indication that only those trained in the method and Force-sensitive could remain whole in the Force, and the way he'd said it, meant Padmé most certainly wasn't around in the same way.

"... I sincerely doubt the princess has any desire to talk to me, as I've killed one of her fathers, stood by as the other father and one mother died, and certainly did not help keep the second one alive." Vader... sounded surprisingly _dry_ , as soon as he came past the 'killed one of' point, where there might have been a flinch of... something. Luke wasn't sure, but he could've bet he was thinking about Anakin. He suppressed a grin, though his stomach had turned at the nearly cavalier mention of Alderaan's destruction.

"It's not _Leia_ , father," he said, and swung himself up into the X-wing's cockpit, half surprised to find himself allowed to do so, "Tatooine, in three days?"

Where, Luke hadn't decided, but he didn't get the chance to.

"Mos Espa," Vader said, and then turned around, watching the Rebellion flagship disappear and, after a couple more seconds, a smaller fighter, incongruously yellow and out of date (Luke was pretty sure it was Clone Wars era) came zooming over the black rock and lava, and he hesitantly pulled his flight suit back up while Artoo warmed the X-wing back up. This felt...

"Go, Luke. We will see where we are in a few weeks."

It seemed as much a promise as a threat, but it _did_ make Luke finish his preparations, still unsure what it was he'd done. Unable to not, he reached out just before punching the button to take him and Artoo into hyperspace.

_Father..._

_I am here, young one._

And it wasn't Luke's imagination that Vader sounded quietly surprised by that. It was about how he felt, too.


End file.
